


What About Angels?

by sharedwithyou



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Angstangstangst, Depression, F/M, Family Issues, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Original Character Death(s), Psychological Triggers, Suspension Of Disbelief, mostly angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 07:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9374234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharedwithyou/pseuds/sharedwithyou
Summary: Inspired by Not About Angels-BirdyWarning: INCREDIBLY SAD, POSSIBLE PSYCHOLOGICAL/DEPRESSION TRIGGERS“I’m so tired of non-humans, man.”“That is so unbelievably racist, (y/n).”“Wouldn’t it be species-ist? Specist?”You let Dean and Sam have their bro-ey moment as they bantered over your perceived prejudice.Or maybe it was bigotry, pure and simple.You figured you’d earned the right, then. Or as much as someone could.“What about angels?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> BOOHOOHOOO
> 
> time to write some heart-breaking angst
> 
> WARNING: VERY VERY SAD. NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. WELL, SAD OF HEART? IDK  
> Possible Psychological/Unhealthy Family Dynamic Triggers
> 
> Suspension of Disbelief if neccessary: you can either assume the Kevin here is Kevin Tran and you're the prophet instead of him, or that Kevin is just an Original Character that happens to be your brother
> 
> LISTENING TO NOT ABOUT ANGELS BY BIRDY MAY ENHANCE THE EXPERIENCE. OR MAKE YOU CRY.
> 
> leave me a comment if you liked!!
> 
> sorry not sorry it's sad
> 
> XOXO Bucky the Angstmaster

 

“I’m so tired of non-humans, man.”

“That is so unbelievably racist, (y/n).”

“Wouldn’t it be species-ist? Specist?”

You let Dean and Sam have their bro-ey moment as they bantered over your perceived prejudice.

Or maybe it was bigotry, pure and simple.

You figured you’d earned the right, then. Or as much as someone could.

 

 

“What about angels?”

 

 

“Turn off that hate-music, Kevin.”

“It’s not hate-music, mom!!”

“Well it’s making me hate music. Change it back to the classical station.”

You reached forward to the dashboard and clicked the preset 1 button as your brother booed at you and your mom let out a sigh of relief.

Why your little brother got to sit in the front was beyond you. Considering he always changed the radio to death metal or gangsta rap; whichever would get on your mother’s nerves more.

You’d given up arguing though; no one listened anyway.

The only one who’d noticed your dwindling voice in the family was ironically enough your loud little brother. ‘Looks like (y/n)’s finally shutting up’ was his comment on it. Your parents had laughed, and even you had to give him a rare smile. There was something about his personality that let him get away with saying almost anything. Even you couldn’t hold it against him.

You could hold your parents favoritism against them, however.

“(y/n) you packed Kevin’s cleats right? And his shin-guards?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We don’t want our baby getting shin splints, now, do we?”

You rolled your eyes as Kevin groaned, enjoying the apologetic smile he slipped your way. You knew he wasn’t any more comfortable being the favorite than you were in being the…what? Not-favorite? Expendable?

Okay that was a bit melodramatic.

Must be part of your rebellious teenage phase, as your dad had called it. Not that it mattered what he said, since he’d left months ago.

So far, it consisted of eating in your room instead of at the family table, getting B’s instead of A’s, and talking less.

Whatever.

“(Y/n)?! Are you listening to me?!”

You exited your self-pity-party. “What, mom?”

“I asked if you printed out the coupons for dinner tonight?”

“Oh. Sorry, I forgot.”

“Damnit, (y/n)! First the C you got on your chemistry exam, and now this?!”

“I said I’m sorry, mom! We can ask one of the other moms if they have a copy!”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

“It’s the principle, (y/n)! You’re supposed to be getting more responsible!! I swear, you are the reason I have so many white hairs!”

“I can barely see them, mom.” Kevin piped up, hoping this would get mom off your back.

“Thanks, Kevin. You’re my little angel.”

You couldn’t help a hateful look from slipping out, even though you regretted it as soon as it crossed your face.

Kevin, perhaps in an effort to prove that he wasn’t, in fact, an angel, leaned forward to switch the channel back to screamo.

“Kevin!”

You leaned forward once more to change it back, so Kevin shoved your arm away, accidentally using it to bump your mom’s hand off the wheel.

“(Y/n)!”

“It wasn’t me!”

So it was as she turned to yell at you that the car skidded over the median of the highway.

Sometimes it was her perpetually angry face that you woke up from in the mornings.

Other times it was your baby brother’s look of fear and horror that shook you awake in the middle of the night.

But it was your own reflection in the rearview mirror, full of guilt and somehow relief, or perhaps guilt at being relieved, being joined by a handsome brunette seconds before the crash that made you cry yourself back to sleep.

 

 

 

“What the fuck?”

“Don’t sit up. You still have a concussion.”

“Who-“

“I can only heal you marginally to still make it believable that you flew out the back window.”

You stared at the stranger squatting over you, haloed by the sun as the echo of sirens got closer.

“Mom and Kevin-“

“I’m sorry.”

His face stayed impassive, though by now you imagined it was because he was incapable of showing any emotion beyond ‘faithful soldier,’ and not because he was a cold-hearted bastard. At that time, anyway.

“Did…did you save me?”

“Yes.”

And you should have thanked him, but you had been wishing, even praying, for everything to stop hurting. For it to all be over. And for so long. After your parents slowly lost interest in you, after your dad abandoned you with no notice of leave, save for the emptying of half of their joint bank account.

If anyone should have been saved, it was lively, glowing Kevin. So much potential ahead of him, as your mom often reminded you.

You could only form two words.

 

 

“Why me?”

 

 

He shook his head in… what? Sorrow? Disappointment?

 

“It’s not up to me.”

 

 

 

“Earth to (y/n).”

“Huh?”

“Here’s your gun. Don’t use it unless you have to.”

“Why are we bringing her, again? She has like, no training.”

“I was really good at that water-shooting-clown game when I went to the carnival,” you offered.

“Because that way Cas doesn’t have to keep tabs on both her and us.”

“We’re putting her in unnecessary danger, Dean.”

“I don’t mind,” you mumbled. They ignored you.

“Yes, but it’s the same danger. That all three of us will be sharing. So Cas only has to teleport one place. Three birds with one stone!”

“Well…”

“Plus he can sense her, so we won’t have to use this stupid flip-phone if we need to get his attention.”

“That’s true.” Sam relented.

“I wish I had a tattoo.” You grumbled.

“This one’s invisible.” Dean reminded you.

“Yeah but it keeps Him away.”

“You can call ‘Him’ Cas.” Sam also reminded.

“No thanks.”

“What’s the matter, afraid to get close?”

Dean dodged your punch, pleasantly surprised that you were at least responding to him. You’d been in a stupor since he’d met you, weeks ago.

“He’s not bad once you get to know him. Really.” Sam assured.

“Again, no thanks.”

 

“What are you doing here, (y/n)?”

 

Speak of the devil. Or angel. Whatever.

“Wasn’t my idea!” Dean raised his hands in defense as both you and Sam glared at him. It was SO his idea.

“You’re supposed to be staying safe.”

“Yeah, well I haven’t had any flashes of premonition or seen, like, glowing words in the ceiling or anything. So you can probably leave me alone now.” You tried to keep your voice level.

“You don’t choose when your premonitions come. Just like I don’t choose who the prophets are.”

“Hey, easy there.” At least blame-shirking Dean was standing up for you now.

“What, am I supposed to set aside her terrible attitude because she might be useful to us someday?”

 

 

“Hey, Castiel? It wasn’t up to me, either.”

 

 

 

“Wake up.”

You shot up and grabbed the intruder by the throat. You fell back onto the bed a second later, completely paralyzed by Cas’s magic two-finger-tap.

“Overreaction.”

“You too.”

You stared at each other, both trying not to smile. You cut the tension quickly, as the feeling started coming back to your extremeties. “You told me to always be on guard.”

“Yes, in tangible ways. Such as lining the room with salt, which I see you failed to do.”

“Got something better.” You pulled a pink pouch from your pajama pockets and shoved it in his face.

“Hmm, hex bag. Could’ve done worse, I suppose.”

“Why thank you for the compliment.” You reached behind your pillow and squirted him in the face with a spray bottle.

He glared at you, wiping the burning sensation from his eyes.

“Salt water, baby.”

He rolled his eyes, before accidentally spouting one of Dean’s, er, Deanisms.

 

“That’s my (y/n).”

 

“What did you say?”

You peered at him in confusion as he turned away quickly.

“Pack your things, we need to get going.” He ignored the question completely.

“Already packed.” You hopped out of bed and pulled a duffel bag from under the bed.

He turned back and gave you a rare smile. You’d never noticed how hot he looked when he wasn’t scowling or brooding. So, almost never.

“It’s raining outside.”

“Yes, I have eyes, Cas.”

He twitched, not used to hearing you use the nickname.

“You should put a jacket on.”

“We’re not exactly going to be driving wherever we are going, I assume.”

He shook his head. “Why do you always fight with me?”

“Someone has to. Otherwise you’ll go through life thinking you’re always right.”

He let out a long-suffering sigh, and you almost felt bad.

 

You almost felt something for him.

 

“Here.”

Maybe you were looking too much into it, but feeling his hands on your shoulders as he draped his coat over you almost felt like it was okay to let someone take care of you.

 

 

Maybe if you couldn’t count on family, you could count on Him.

Maybe if you couldn’t count on people,

 

You could count on angels.

 

 

 

“We shouldn’t have done that.”

You thought the weirdest thing you’d hear after doing it was “Shit I think my mom’s home.”

You’d much prefer that to what Castiel just said, though.

“What are you talking about?”

He was silent as he hopped into his pants and tried to pass you yours. You folded your arms across your chest and didn’t move.

“I…I think we’ve made a mistake.” You’d never heard him stutter over his words before.

“Well I disagree.”

His sigh was muffled by him pulling his shirt over his head. “You always do.”

“Hey I’m not the one who was huffing and puffing in bed a second ago.”

“I was not huf- let’s just forget this happened.”

“Oh, what, so I’m good enough to save from a car crash but not to fuck?”

“That’s not-“ He took a deep breath to gather his thoughts. Communicating with you was never easy; the words came but the meaning was never quite right.

Start with the facts:

“As I’ve said many times, it was not my choice to save you.”

Normally this itself would start an argument, but you had something else on your mind right now. “Well, it was you that chose to sleep with you.”

“Which I now believe to have been a mistake.”

 

“Why, because big boy Castiel can’t deal with his own feelings?”

 

He bit his cheek so he wouldn’t react rashly as he’d done a few times in the past. Why was nothing ever black and white with you?

“Let’s talk about this when you’ve cooled down.”

“Believe me, I’m cool.”

“Fine then.” He couldn’t believe how immature he felt.

 

“You should’ve saved Kevin.”

 

You’d said this before; usually when you woke up from a nightmare screaming his name. It wasn’t always reliving the crash; sometimes it was hearing from your dad finally, only to find out he just wanted the insurance money. Other times it was being dragged into the deep by some zombie version of your family.

He’d express irritation with you, calling him away from whatever mission he was currently on.

Sometimes he’d be angry that you were so ungrateful to have had a second chance.

The latter happened less and less often when he realized you were burdened with survivor’s guilt.

Recently, you’d fallen asleep in his arms as he patted your shoulder awkwardly, wanting to let you know he was glad he saved you, even though it wasn’t up to him in the first place.

He’d almost had the words to say, “I’m happy to have saved you, and I’d do it again.”

 

Instead, he said nothing, until today. Something he’d never thought he’d even come close to saying.

Something he’d wish he could take back, but would never be able to.

 

 

“Sometimes I wish I did, instead.”

 

 

 

“Okay (y/n), we’ve narrowed it down. You’re either a Supernatural Hitler, or the leader of the Human Sisterhood.”

You blinked, wondering which one of the boys had asked the question earlier. Evidently, they’d moved on, anyway. “Human Sisterhood sounds good.”

“Careful, it’s a spin-off of Aryan Brotherhood. More ominous, if you ask me.” Sam joked.

“Hey, weren’t we supposed to meet Cas at Starbucks half an hour ago?” Dean checked his phone sheepishly.

“Crap.” Sam jumped out of his chair, grabbing his laptop with one hand and messing up your hair with the other “We’ll get you a latte?”

“Peppermint Mocha.” You corrected him, smiling faintly as the two of them bumbled out of the hotel to the car.

 

 

It was silent when you heard it once more.

 

 

“What about angels?”

 

“Kevin?”

You knew it wasn’t him, but maybe if you wished or prayed hard enough, you’d see him at least once.

 

“(Y/n).”

Castiel stood before you once more, his hands clasped behind his back. You’d never seen him so unsure of himself before. Interesting.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.” Perhaps for different reasons. Him, for being a dick. You, for putting yourself in such a vulnerable position to get fucked over by a dick. Or get fucked by one, for that matter.

And you didn’t know what to do, or what to say, except to echo back the question you had no answer for.

 

 

“What about angels?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
> 
> give me some love below!!
> 
> Random Ramblings:  
> Quick Poll 1: WHICH PART KILLED YOU. mine is probably when seeing your own face in the rearview mirror, you were both guilty and relieved, because you were relieved you would finally stop hurting.  
> ugh. my heart.
> 
> quick poll 2: forgive Cas?!?!  
> i was gonna end this more angstily, but instead i left it open-ended. it felt more true to the fic, plus i felt like after all this sadness i could just completely crush the cas-love  
> wahhhh  
> i wanted to make it clear that cas didn't mean things the way they came out, but still maximize the hurt that came from it. i'm not evil, i swear
> 
> quick poll 3: sequel? if so, ideas? or good as a one-shot?
> 
> i interpreted this story that lovely is a prophet and kevin is just her brother. but i suppose it works as sort of an AU kevin tran's sister thing. although that might make it sadder.  
> FYI this family dynamic is one i've seen, but luckily haven't experienced. i was considering toning it down, since it might hit home for some people. in the end, i kept it because i try to stay true to what flows from the pen/keyboard
> 
> see you all soon lovelies!! probably with something less angsty!
> 
> Love you lots! XOXO  
> Bucky


End file.
